


Newsflash Walter Cronkite, Three Isn't A Crowd

by orphan_account



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Cult
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, F/M, Frottage, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Journalist Mallory, Kissing, M/M, Model Kai, Model Michael, Shooting, The Great British Bake Off References, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Vehicle Theft, Walk Off, Zoolander AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-09-29 00:18:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20434892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Zoolander AU. Michael gets involved with some bad people and needs Mallory to save his bacon. They run into his rival Kai along the way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chekhovs_Power_Loader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chekhovs_Power_Loader/gifts).

> The plot and characters of American Horror Story: Apocalypse belong to Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk. Blah blah Zoolander belongs to Paramount. I used certain lines from the movie. 
> 
> The endearment "little, lamb" belongs to lvngdvns. The last name "Howell" belongs to mvllorylvngdon.
> 
> All mistakes are my own.

“Time Magazine, this is Mallory Howell speaking.”

“Oh thank god!”

“Michael?”

“I need some advice, Mallie!”

“What? What’s going on? I’ve been trying to reach you for a week!”

“Yeah. So, hypothetically, say a scary dominatrix makes you go to a daiy-e spa to relax before your runway show, and then some hillbilly swamp person massages you aggressively with her man-hands, while a Wham!looking motherfucker tries to brain wash you with a banging remix of Toxic. What would you do?”

Mallory lets the absolute fuckery of his words settle on the line between them, and then says, “Michael, were you kidnapped by Moore’s henchwoman Madison? Isn’t she like 5 foot two and fifty pounds soaking wet?”

“Five foot five in heels. That’s not the point! And I said hypothetically.”

“Michael…where are you right now?”

\--

Mallory gets to Michael’s apartment at just after four in the afternoon.

She starts banging on the door immediately. 

The idiot has been missing for days. At first, she’d thought that he was just ignoring her. He’d been pissy when she'd tried to tell him her suspicions about Moore and his associates. He’d accused her of being "jealous that someone else was interested in him."

After the fifth day of silence she’d gotten concerned.

No one in his "squad" knew where he was. Not even Taylor; apparently, they’d had a falling out.

Mallory's ready to start shouting when Michael rips the door open. “MALLORY! Thank god you’re here.”

He’s dressed in red leather pants and a mesh crop top, nips out, with his blond hair piled into a bun so luscious and soft looking that it could make even the crankiest man-bun hating Boomer cry.

Mallory blinks. “What exactly are you—Are you going somewhere? An hour ago you were in crisis about your kidnapping?”

Michael hums. “Yeah, so I had a vitamin water and two grapes about it, and I decided it could wait until tomorrow. I need you to help me choose what eyeshadow to wear to the pre-runway party tonight.” He holds out a palate for her inspection. “Classic smokey eye or metallic?” 

“MICHAEL! We need to talk about this! What did you mean when you said they brain washed you?”

He looks up from his eyeshadows casually and glances around the hallway, avoiding her gaze. “Oh, you know just that they like inceptioned me to assassinate Cordelia Goode.”

“WHAT!” 

Mallory waves her arms around, blocking Michael’s view of the wallpaper behind her until he’s forced to meet her eyes. “Moore wants you to kill Cordelia! Why? Because she stole Queenie from him?” 

Michael shrugs. “Queenie was Moore’s muse for his best received collection. I’d be mad too if my inspiration started modelling for someone else.”

“But why you? How are you going to kill Cordelia?”

“Hey!” Michael snaps. “I have the killer instinct, m’kay. Just last week I told Taylor that she doesn’t suit bangs.”

Mallory tilts her head and deadpans, “wow, you really went for the jugular.”

“I know, right?”

She pats him on the shoulder patronizingly.

Michael flutters his lashes and pouts. “Whatever. What’s important right now, is that we get you into something less frumpy than what you have on. You’re giving me très butch Hillary Swank. And to be _honest_...” Sultry blue eyes give her a thorough up and down as a long finger traces the lapel of her suit jacket. “I’m feeling it. But you need to slut it up a bit if you don’t want to stick out like an ugly nose.”

It takes a second for Mallory’s brain to reboot after the ocular molestation Michael vests upon her person. His smirk says he knows exactly what he’s doing to her. “Uh,” she gapes. “W-what? Michael, no. I’m not going to your party.”

A big hand settles in the crook of her waist. Wisps of his hair tickle her cheek when he bends down and whispers in her ear. “Of course you are. Who else would I trust to keep me safe from the dominatrix.”

\-- 

The car that Moore arranged for Michael drops them off at a club called The Sanctuary. 

Standing in front of the building in heels, a red leather skirt and a silk blouse Michael had assured her "Cara wouldn’t mind her borrowing," Mallory feels like the biggest poser to ever slither into an event on a celebrity’s arm.

They’re _matching_ for fuck's sake.

People are going to think that they’re here _together_. And for someone who ridiculed her for being jealous of other people, Michael seems oddly content with appearing as an item. 

He keeps a hand glued to her low back as they make their way into the building.

People clamour for his attention, calling his name and reaching out with grasping hands as they move through the crowd. They just find a bit of breathing room when someone roughly pushes their way past Michael, causing him to shove her forward. 

She’s tripping, she’s falling, she’s—no longer falling.

Mallory blinks up and sees none other than Kai—Michael’s rival and Male Model of the Year—looking at her with a mixture of mockery, lust and amusement. Embarrassment has her flushing from her ears down to her chest.

Mortification, it’s a thing. That is happening. 

“Hi,” she says finally, because Kai’s holding her mid-way through a catch. They haven’t moved. 

“Ms. Howell,” Kai says, his voice a throaty purr. “What’s a Time Magazine journalist doing in this crowd of wannabes? Are you on the _prowl_ for a juicy piece of gossip, little lamb?” He looks down his nose at the skin exposed by her plunging neckline. “Because you can certainly interrogate me.”

“Ha,” Mallory chuckles nervously. "Yep, just out looking for a scoop. That’s what we call it. Totally not doing anything else. Nothing suspicious.” Kai’s bare chest is firm under his purple paisley shirt. She can see the top of a large tattoo just peeking out from the collar.

He’s leans down toward her face until his mouth is centimeters from her lips and whispers, “that’s a very nice necklace you’re wearing.”

Mallory inhales a shaky breath. She parts her lips to respond when Michael growls? Howls? Grunts threateningly? Whatever, heart rate galloping, Mallory pulls away from Kai’s hold and is immediately picked up and tucked behind Michael’s back.

“You should keep your hands to yourself,” the blond snarls.

Kai puts said hands out in peaceful gesture. “Whoa, take it easy. I was just talking to the lady, brah.”

“You were doing more than talking. And I’m not your brah,” Michael sneers, extending the ‘ah’ sound.

Sauntering forward, Kai grabs Michael’s shoulder and jerks him close enough that the tips of their noses brush. "Is this not talking?" he drawls. "Because I could swear that it is.”

Michael’s back stiffens. He rocks infinitesimally on his heels and clears his throat. “Just a close talker then, huh? You must have learned that from your close family of _freaks_. Give my regards to your sister the next time you see her.”

Now it’s Kai’s turn to growl. “Careful,” he hisses. “At least I have a family.”

Michael shoots out a hand to clench at Kai’s elbow. “You may have your little _cult_, but _I_ have the Moore campaign. It’s a shame you didn’t book it. You must not have the right…_aesthetic_.”

Brown eyes narrow. “Are you trying to get crazy with me? Don’t you know I’m loco.”

“I have a crazy idea,” Michael taunts. “Why don’t we settle this with a walk off. If you really are Male Model of the Year it should be a piece of cake for you, _bukkak-ai_.”

Someone in the club oohs in the silence after Michael’s insult. 

Mallory’s almost proud.

Kai’s eyelid twitches. His free had slips between his body and Michael’s to cup the other man’s crotch. He gives his handful a playful shake and responds, “if you think you have the balls for it, Mikey.”

Scoffing dismissively, Michael rips himself out of Kai’s hands. “Oh, I have the balls for it. Big ones. Big heavy balls.”

\--

The warehouse they relocate to for the "walk-off" is barely big enough to hold the celebrity party goers who turn up in droves. Mallory spies Madison, as terrifying as ever with crimson lips and a latex bustier, among the people throttling for a position around the runway. 

Michael’s safe from her clutches for now. He’s up on the catwalk…stretching? While Kai chants to himself in some other language. 

If the two dipshits can keep everyone distracted, she might be able to get close enough to Madison to overhear her conversation with the gentleman next to her, who, judging by his feathered hair and earring, is the "Wham!looking motherfucker" who brain washed Michael.

Kai finishes his chant, snaps his fingers and yells, “alright who’s going to call this sucker?!”

A silver fox emerges from the throng. Mallory fights to keep the shock off of her face.

“If nobody has any objections,” Paul Hollywood says, voice smooth as butter. “I believe I might be of service judging this competition of male ego.” 

Michael and Kai shrug their acceptance and gather around the Bake Off judge.

“Now, this’ll be a straight walk-off," Paul starts. "Gingham rules, no practice rounds. First model walks, second model duplicates, then elaborates." Both men nod their acceptance and he smiles. “Ok boys, let’s begin this technical challenge.”

“Style before substance, _Frances_,” Kai leers.

Michael huffs a breath. _“Whatever.”_ Spinning away from Kai, he marches to the head of the runway and waits for his cue.

Paul takes the seat of honour at the end of the catwalk and waves a hand for someone to start the music.

Michael comes to life as the opening strains of Shakira’s ‘She Wolf’ echo throughout the space. He dials his ever-present smoulder up to 110% and starts strutting down the runway. Powerful thighs flex with every stride, pulling the lean muscles under his leather pants into relief. 

Reaching the end of the stage, he jumps into a wide legged stance and serves the audience his signature look—gender fuck rebel. Looking up from under his lashes saucily, he pops his tongue into his upper lip and flicks a nipple peeking through the mesh of his shirt. He shivers dramatically for the crowd and then prances back the way he came. 

Kai assumes the starting position, and Mallory edges closer to Madison and her associate. He copies Michael’s strut perfectly, rolling his hips smoothly and eating up the distance. At the end of the runway, he pulls out a stoic look he calls ‘man with no label.’ With an unblinking, dead-eyed stare, Kai pops his tongue, flicks his nipple and shivers, adding a head toss.

The crowd cheers and applauds as Shakira begs someone to let her she wolf free.

By the time Kai gets back to the starting point, Mallory has successfully installed herself behind Madison. She’s only peripherally aware of Michael and Kai’s next few turns down the runway. She focuses in on the pair in front of her and listens to Mr. Wham! drone nasally about how his "jazz-fu" will be showcased in the UFC Octagon one day. What she registers of the increasingly bizarre antics on stage are hair swinging, tata shaking and hip gyrations that would put Richard Simmons to shame. 

As Michael drops down on all fours and starts crawling like a sexy panther, Mallory’s eyes catch the glint of Madison’s phone screen sticking out of the purse at her elbow. Impulsively, she pushes the person beside her into Mr. Wham! When Madison turns to see who’s jostled her partner, she snags the phone out of her purse and moves quickly in the opposite direction. 

She’s almost made it past the front of the stage when she hears a, “hey, bitch!” shouted in her direction. Not slowing down, she veers toward the catwalk and waves her arms at Michael in an SOS gesture.

Michael stops licking his hand long enough to notice her and reaches forward to pull her up onto the stage. Instead of running for the back door like a sane person, he hauls them both to their feet and starts rubbing up on her like she’s a human stripper pole. 

“What are you doing!” Mallory hisses into the mass of unbound blond hair in front of her face. Michael keeps grinding his ass into her pelvis and says, “just go with it, feel the music.”

Before long, Mallory feels another body slot in behind her and start moving with them. She turns her head to the side and catches a flash of blue as Kai grinds against her ass. They’re like goddamned furnaces at her front and back. Perspiration starts to bead on her forehead as Michael turns around and grips her waist, leaning his head down to breathe over her lips. At the same time, Kai nips at the pulse in her neck. 

Mallory whimpers as her hips jump. Michael’s hands tighten, gripping so hard that she’s certain she’ll have finger shaped bruises in the morning. Her mouth falls open as his hips continue twisting against hers, keeping their rhythm slow and steady. She’s breathing loud because it’s too much, too suffocating. This is torture. He does this move—this thrust of his hips, pushing her right up against Kai, and she can feel a bulge at her ass, and oh, _Jesus Christ_.

Mallory’s about to burst into hysterical laughter when Michael surges forward the last few millimeters between them and kisses her. He licks at the seam of her lips for entrance and she opens for him, moaning loud at the impatient stroke of his tongue.

Before she can get used to the sensation, a strong hand is gripping her jaw and turning her head back to the side. Another pair of warm of lips claim hers. Kai does his best to outdo Michael, teasing her with short licks and the drag of his teeth.

Mallory’s soaked. Absolutely dripping under her skirt. With a little more pressure from Michael against her clit, she’s certain that she could come like this, sandwiched between two male models in front of a room full of people.

She tilts her hips to start riding that wave and a number of things happen at once: Shakira lets out an empowering _AOOH_, Paul Hollywood shouts, “you’re both disqualified,” and a warning gunshot blasts in the room.

The three of them break apart as pandemonium ensues. “SHIT!” Mallory yells. “Michael, we have to go now. I stole Madison’s phone!”

His eyes widen dramatically. “Where are we supposed to go! She knows where I live and she’s probably got people watching your shoebox too!”

Mallory raises an eyebrow at the barb and starts dragging him toward the door.

“You guys could come to my place,” Kai offers, following behind them. “I’m always willing to help fugitives in need.”

Mallory remembers the searing heat of their connection a few minutes ago and blurts, “ok, but how are we getting there? We took an Uber here.”

Kai smirks. “Do either of you know how to drive stick? I think Hollywood’s Lambo is in the parking lot.”

“I can," she breathes. "Michael can hardly make left turns let alone drive stick.”

\--

They make it across the parking lot and to Hollywood’s car when Michael pauses. He darts a heated look between the two of them and says, “I think I could learn—stick.”

Kai slaps the top of the car. “Yes! That’s what I’m talking about.”

They peel out of the lot under a hail of bullets. Paul isn’t getting his deposit back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Threesome porn as requested!

Mallory steers the Lambo out of a fishtail and pushes her foot into the accelerator. “Where am I going, Kai?”

“Lower West Village, off of 7th avenue. Number 11, Saint Luke’s Place,” he says, adrenaline thrumming in his voice. 

Mallory snorts. “_You _live in a rowhouse?” 

“What? Is there something wrong with that?” Kai snaps. 

It’s quiet in the car for a moment.

Worried that she’s seriously offended him, Mallory meets Kai's eyes in the rear-view mirror and explains herself. “No, I just—It’s kind of funny that Mr. ‘I climbed Mount Vesuvius, oh wait, no. It was a drug induced hallucination,’ lives somewhere so normal. I was expecting a warehouse or something equally unusual.”

“A homeless shelter,” Michael offers helpfully.

Kai glares at both of them. “I like brownstones, okay? They’re quaint.” 

Mallory supresses a laugh and scoots to the edge of the driver’s seat, then back an inch when it puts pressure _right _where she doesn’t need it while fleeing from people trying to kill them.

The purr of the Lambo isn’t helping either. Every time she revs the engine, she gets a thrill that shoots straight to her core. Still aching with unfulfilled desire, she can’t help but rub her thighs together subtly under her skirt.

Not subtly enough. Kai leans forward in the back of the car and presses his face between the door and her seat. Hot breath washes over the stretch of neck exposed by her bob.

“You doing alright there, lamb? You seem a little _tense_,” Kai asks, voice pitched low and gravely.

Mallory can’t stop the moan that slips out of her lips. He sounds like sex. _Like he’s just sucked Michael off and his throat is still raw from it. _It's easy to picture how his lips would look wrapped around Michael’s cock. _Spit slick and shiny, maybe he’d be jacking him slowly while he sucked on the tip, working Michael up to the edge and back again until he was ready to cry with frustration. _

The fantasy gets all the way to Kai licking the come off of Michael’s stomach before Mallory regains enough of her braincells to recognize that he’s waiting for her response.

“I-I’m good. All good. Just, God. Is it hot in here?” Her stutter can't be helped.

She goes to lean forward to adjust the temperature controls and is jerked back by a hand pulling her seat belt taught between her breasts. 

“Not really. I think you’re just horny,” Kai taunts. “I think your panties are soaked and you’re having a hard time not thinking about how it felt to be pressed between our cocks.”

Mallory moans and shakes her head in denial. Her hands tighten around the steering wheel in their rigid ten and two position. 

“No? What were you just thinking about then, lamb? I know it was something naughty because I can smell you from here.”

Embarrassment and desire have Mallory's nipples peaking against her blouse. She glances at the rear-view mirror again and sees Michael leaning in, head cocked with his interest. She pulls her eyes back to the road and whispers, “you and Michael.”

Kai leans back in his seat and grins.

He pitches his voice a little louder and asks, “me and Michael? And what were we doing? Was it this?”

Between one moment and the next, Kai hooks his fingers in Michael’s mesh shirt and yanks, pulling him into his space. By the time Michael realizes what’s happening, Kai’s leaning in and nibbling at his jaw, sliding his hands around his exposed waist. Michael’s eyes go wide and he lets out a startled gasp.

Kai kisses him then, slipping his tongue in between his parted lips. 

Michael takes a sharp breath and then just _melts_. Kissing a man is a foreign sensation, but it's one that he’s quickly adjusting to. Kai’s stubble seems to be everywhere, scraping his cheeks and neck. 

Mallory doesn’t think that she’s ever been so turned on in her whole life. Later she’ll wonder how she made it across town without wrapping the Lambo around a light pole.

She can hear the wet, sucking sound of Michael and Kai’s kiss. Every time she checks the rear-view mirror, she’s treated to the sight of Kai’s fingers scratching red lines across the pale ridge of Michael’s hip or Michael’s ringed hands fisting in Kai’s blue hair. 

_Think about puppies or babies. Going to confessional with your priest. No, definitely no priests. Inhale pure thoughts, exhale frustration. Stay loose; don’t rock your hips. Keep your eyes on the road._ _You can do this, Mallory. Just hold on a little longer. A little. **Longer**. _

Goddammit, but they’re pretty. Mallory checks again and sees Kai play a bit, sucking at Michael’s tongue while his fingers pinch his nipple. She can see Michael’s erection pressing against the confines of his leather pants.

At her limit, she pulls the car to an abrupt stop in front of Kai’s house, shamelessly parking with one wheel up on the sidewalk. She’s out of the car then and ripping Michael’s door open. “Out,” she pants, teeth bared in a snarl.

Kai separates from Michael, takes a moment to admire his kiss-swollen lips and gestures for him to get out of the car first. Before Michael can regain his senses and start sliding across the seat, Mallory leans down and grabs both of their wrists, pulling them out of the car and away. Kai has just enough sense to kick the door shut on his way out.

The stairs to the house are taken at a run. The street is empty, most of Kai’s elderly, millionaire neighbours having gone to bed hours ago. That means that there’s no one around to see when he and Michael trap Mallory against the front door and kiss her until door sex seems like a marvellous idea.

Ever the voice of reason, Mallory pulls away to remind them that they’re meant to be hiding from Madison and not getting arrested for public indecency.

They make it into Kai’s house and to his bedroom, although none of them remember how. As soon as the bedroom door opens, Mallory rips off her blouse and skims her skirt down her thighs. She’s left in a pair of black lace panties and nothing else. Michael had demanded that she hand over her "sad mom bra" because it wouldn’t work with the cut of her borrowed shirt.

As naked as she wants to be for the moment, she lunges at Kai and springs up off of the floor, climbing him like a horny squirrel would a particularly sexy tree. She attaches her mouth to his and pays him back every second of frustration she’d experienced in the car.

Meanwhile, Michael goes after Kai’s jeans. He pops the button, hooks his fingers in the denim and cotton briefs, and yanks them to Kai’s knees.

Kai stumbles back under the force of their dual assault and manages to sit at the end of his bed with Mallory perched in his lap. Michael kneels to continue pulling the clothing off of his feet and turns his head to nose at the waistband of Mallory’s panties. He slips his tongue out to trace over the lace and breathes, “you’ve been wearing these all day under your frumpy suit, you naughty _minx_.”

Mallory groans as sharp teeth nip at her asscheek.

The sting has her hips jerking forward and grinding her clothed slit against Kai’s erection. He hisses and brings his feet up on the bed, scooting them backwards. When they reach the centre of the mattress, Mallory turns her head to look for Michael. He's wild eyed with arousal. He presses a hand against the bulge in his leather pants and tears at the zipper. The tip of his erection peeks out of the fly, unhindered by another layer of cloth. _Of course he doesn’t wear underwear. _

She and Kai reach out toward him with grasping hands and he drifts into their touch.

As soon as Michael's close enough, they snatch his shoulders, pulling him up the bed. Michael rips off his poor excuse of a shirt and sprawls out on his back next to them. He gets no warning before Mallory swings a leg over his thighs, abandoning her position above Kai to get her lips on his exposed flesh.

Straddling him, Mallory grabs at Michael’s waistband and pushes his leather pants down while he lifts his hips. She pulls the tight pants off, scooting down his thighs and calves. Slithering slowly upwards, she brings her mouth to the skin of Michael's belly and then his hip, sucking her own marks overtop of the scratches Kai made in the car. _Mine_, she thinks, laving a bruise, and when Kai’s tongue joins hers, snaking along Michael’s thigh, _ours_.

Kai pulls his mouth away and shuffles back on his knees to yank his dress shirt over his head. He strokes his cock in appreciation as Mallory gives kittenish licks to the head of Michael’s. Makeup is smeared around Michael’s hooded eyes and his plush lips are flushed a deep red, giving him a thoroughly debauched look.

Kai wants to fuck that mouth. But not right now.

Right now, there are more interesting places to put his cock.

He gives himself a firm squeeze and moves behind Mallory to twist his fingers into her golden-brown hair. He pulls on the strands until her head is craned back, her mouth gaping open in front of Michael’s shaft. “Michael, do you want Mallory to get you nice and wet so you can fuck her sweet little cunt while I fuck your ass?” he asks. 

Michael bites his bottom lip and considers Kai’s words. He definitely wants Mallory’s mouth around his cock, and he’s been dying to fuck her for months. Having his ass fucked will be a new experience, but he’d be lying if he said that he's never slipped a few fingers into himself while jerking off in the shower.

His cheeks flush under Kai’s intense gaze and he drops his eyes from the tattoo on his chest to the impressive erection pulsing between his legs. He licks his lips.

He wants to feel the pressure that he could never manage on his own. He wants to feel full with someone _else_. 

“Yes,” Michael says hoarsely. “A million times, _yes_.”

Mallory feels Kai’s fingers spasm in her hair. She whimpers at the sensation and lowers her head obediently when he forces her down on Michael’s cock. Michael tastes like sweat and sex and she can’t get enough. She drags her tongue against his shaft and taps against the underside of the flared head each time Kai pulls her head up. Gagging with a particularly hard downward thrust, she breathes through her nose and tries to relax her jaw.

She looks up Michael’s torso to his face and sees him watching her, blue eyes blazing with hunger. She gives him a hint of teeth to the frenulum on the next upstroke, and watches his eyes roll back with a breathy grunt. Before she can get too far into it, Kai rips her head up and claims her lips in sloppy, biting kiss.

Mallory slides her mouth to rub her spit covered cheeks against Kai’s stubble before licking a trail down his neck to his ink covered chest. She moans against warm, cologne scented skin. “Mmmm been wanting to lick this tattoo for hours.”

Kai submits to her worship of his body art as Michael, never one to be excluded, sits up and cups a hand around his cheek, bringing him into a new kiss.

Seeing their mouths meet in full technicolour glory instead of in a rear-view mirror is almost too much for Mallory to take. They’re too beautiful; long hair and chiselled features too fine for one person to stare at without combusting. Tired of waiting, she pops off of Kai’s nipple and throws herself to the head of the bed, yanking open his bedside table and rummaging around for lube and condoms. Thankfully, both are in supply. 

Twisting onto her back, Mallory drops her bounty on the comforter and slips her panties down her legs. Smirking cheekily, she hooks a foot into one side of the lace and catapults them at Michael’s head.

Michael breaks away from Kai in surprise and chuckles. He grabs the panties tangled in his long hair and brings them up to his nose for a deep sniff. Mallory’s cunt flutters with arousal at the gesture. A rush of wetness coats the inside of her thighs.

Spreading herself open for Michael’s gaze, Mallory winks at him and circles a finger around her clit. 

“Getting impatient, kitten?” Michael purrs. He balls the panties in his hand and lobs them at his pants on the floor. Mallory doubts that she’ll be getting those back.

Michael crawls up the bed toward her and settles in with her knees on either side of his head. Mallory combs her fingers through his hair, pushing the long strands away from his face and watches as his eyes narrow on the full-body blush painting her pink from her collar bones to her navel. 

"Desperation's a good look on you, kitten." Michael dips his head between her legs and breathes deep, appreciating her floral soap and the sharp scent of her arousal. Mallory's hips rock up insistently toward his face, bumping his nose with her clit. “Going to put that sharp tongue to good use?” she asks.

Michael frowns. “Bossy investigative journalists, always telling me what to do, which words are real, what answers are factual. Why don’t you just lie back and relax."

Rough hands grabbing his ass and spreading his cheeks wide have Michael drawing another deep breath against Mallory's cunt. He cranes his neck to look over his shoulder and sees Kai looking at him, face intent. “Is this ok?” Kai asks, circling a blunt finger around his entrance. Michael gives him an approving nod and tries to relax. He turns back to Mallory and shoves his face into her slit, intent on distracting himself. He nuzzles her, licking broad strokes from her weeping hole up her lips. The press of a cool, lube slicked finger into his ass, gentle and slow, has him humming around Mallory’s clit.

It takes a few seconds to adjust to the strange feeling of Kai’s finger inside of him. Soon, the wrongness of the invasion fades into a dull ache.

Michael pushes back greedily against Kai’s hand and whines. _It’s not enough_. He wants to feel the stretch. He gets his wish as a second finger pushes into him, twisting deep.

Michael curses at the sharp burn and resolutely continues his licking. Mallory pants loudly and bucks her hips, seeking pressure. “_More_.”

Happy to appease his pushy minx, Michael slips a finger inside of her and curls. The sigh Mallory releases has his erection, flagging after Kai’s intrusion, surging back to life. He keeps working her open, adding fingers and spreading them against her walls as Kai takes him apart one wide digit at a time. 

Mallory mewls when Michael's teeth graze her clit, so he does it again.

Her hands tighten in his hair, nails digging into his scalp. The pain of her fingernails distracts him from the press of a third finger into his ass. Michael feels stretched beyond capacity. He’s not sure how Kai's cock is supposed to fit. Before he can dwell too much on it, Kai changes the angle of his wrist and rubs a fingertip over something that has him exhaling a shout.

Kai chuckles and strokes Michael’s back soothingly. He’s impressed with how well he’s taking it. “Shhh, Mikey. It's just your prostate. It’ll feel even better when it’s my cock up rubbing up against your sweet spot.”

Michael shivers at the dark promise in his voice. 

“I think,” Kai mutters, fingers squelching wetly as they withdraw from Michael’s ass, “that we better get this show on the road.” He raises his eyes to Mallory’s face. “You good, lamb?” 

Mallory squeezes her eyes shut and nods her head vigorously. “Please.”

She tugs at Michael’s hair again, pulling him up the bed. His face is wet from his generous attentions to her cunt, and she shows her appreciation by dragging him into an enthusiastic kiss. “Now,” she pants. “Michael, I need you inside of me now.” 

The sound of a foil package ripping has Michael sitting back on his knees. Kai’s long fingers wrap around his cock, rolling a condom on expertly. Ducking down, Kai swirls his tongue around Michael's tip, letting saliva gather in his mouth and flow down his latex covered shaft.

As soon as Kai backs off, Mallory is there, dragging Michael down to her. Michael curls his hands around her legs, wrapping her knees around his hips. He guides the tip of his cock into her as Kai slips a pillow underneath her ass. 

Michael had planned to go slow, but he surges the rest of the way into her when Kai winds up and lands a hard smack across the cheek of his ass.

Mallory yelps at the hard entry.

“Subtle,” Michael sneers at Kai. He leans down and sucks one of Mallory’s nipples into his mouth in apology. He nurses there for a moment and lets Mallory adjust to the size of him as Kai gets himself suited up. 

The press of Kai’s cock against his hole has all of the breath leaving Michael's lungs at once. He inhales shakily as the pressure increases, giving way to a painful stretch. His hips jerk sharply, grinding his pelvis into Mallory. “Shit!” he hisses.

Kai chuckles. “Not a word we use during anal, Mikey.” Callused fingers rub gentle circles over his hips.

Michael buries his face in Mallory’s neck, biting down hard as Kai starts working into him with short thrusts. Mallory whimpers and rolls her head to the side, exposing more of her neck for his teeth. When Kai bottoms out inside of him, impossibly large and searing with heat, Michael takes a moment to breathe through the urge to push him out.

Tentatively, he rolls his hips.

Mallory and Kai groan at his movements, nails scratching at his neck and hips. When pain doesn’t immediately flare up his back, Michael heaves a sigh of relief. “Go, Kai,” he grates. 

Kai doesn’t need any more encouragement. He pulls out and drives back into Michael's ass with a smooth push. The force shoves Michael's cock hard into Mallory, skipping over her g-spot and making her writhe and squeeze around him. "Fuck, yes! I want it," she sobs. 

It becomes a game of timing. When Kai moves, Michael moves with him; Mallory rocking up to meet their thrusts.

Mallory gazes up at her lovers and feels something possessive unfurl in her chest. She rubs a small foot against Kai’s ribs and rakes the nails of one hand down Michael’s chest. Connection hums in the room; something primal driving their movements until they're almost feral. 

As Michael’s thrusts get deeper and harder, Mallory clamps down around his cock and watches Kai’s body’s jerk from the clench of his ass. Michael’s high-pitched whine has Kai pulling all of the way out and slamming in, tip sparking over the blond's prostate and churning deep.

“That’s it, Mikey,” Kai pants. “Are you gonna come on my cock like a good boy? Gonna spill deep inside Mal? Fill her cunt up with your come?” 

The room is sweltering. If Mallory thought being pressed between them was bad, this is infinitely worse. She sucks in air desperately and feels the tension at the base of her spine start to let go.

Her back bows off of the bed and her hips shudder against Michael, sending him over the edge. Michael’s back and arms spasm as he comes, lips parted around a hoarse scream. “Fuck yes!” Kai grunts through clenched teeth. “Fuck you’re both beautiful, my little come dumps.” He gives a handful more grinding thrusts and spills his own release.

The three of them stay locked together, gasping down air and settling in against each other’s slick skin.

It’s sticky and disgusting, but nobody seems in a hurry to move. The heavy scent of sex in the air is almost comforting. _Eau de Michael sandwich_.

After a while, Michael clears his throat. “You know, there was moment in between the butt fucking and the simultaneous orgasms, where I thought, _wow, _I could really spend the rest of my life with these people.”

There’s a long pause.

Mallory huffs. “We’re not living at my apartment. You both have far too many clothes.” 


End file.
